


Dralshy'a Tome

by qwertyuioplmm



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28343775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwertyuioplmm/pseuds/qwertyuioplmm
Summary: Dralshy'a Tome. Stronger Together.Din feels torn in too many directions after the events of The Mandalorian S2. He visits Luke's temple on Yavin 4 to seek solace from the stresses of being Mand'alor. Luke convinces him to stick around a little more and help find more Force sensitive beings throughout the galaxy.Both men are struggling to rebuild their respective cultures after the Empire eradicated them and against the growing First Order. They just might figure out that they're stronger together.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 62
Kudos: 329





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These two consumed my soul very rapidly. This fic has also grown very rapidly, so expect a bit of a slow burn and some very touching moments. I'm soft for these boys and that is very much reflected here.

“You can come with us.”

The statement hangs in the air. Din isn’t quite sure he knows what to do with it. The Jedi is looking at him and he doesn’t have his helmet on and he is totally out of his element. There’s a soft clang at his shoulder. Cara has picked up his helmet that had been forgotten at his feet. Another soft clang. 

Din’s gaze flicks once more between the Jedi and his son before he accepts the helmet being offered to him. As he slides it back into place he is grateful for the calming effect it has on his soul. He’s grateful it can hide his face, if only to prevent the others from seeing how affected he is by the Jedi’s offer to still be allowed in Grogu’s life.

With his helmet firmly in place he turns to survey the others on the bridge with him. Fennec will be waiting for the return of Boba, Cara too. She will likely bum a ride back to Nevarro from the man. Bo-Katan and Reeves are another problem entirely, and not one that he really wants to deal with anyway. 

His mission is complete. He’s found Grogu’s kind. He has no more outstanding obligations. He can do what he wants. And he wants to stay with the kid more than anything. 

“He can’t go with you.”

Of course Bo-Katan needs to pipe up.

“He has a responsibility to the people of Mandalore. Remember the Resol’nare.”

“I told you, the saber is yours. I don’t want it.”

“It doesn’t work like that!”

She sounds frantic. Like there’s more to the story of why she can’t just take the saber from Din and let him leave with the Jedi in peace. 

“And why not?”

He’s tired. He doesn’t want to have this conversation. But he imagines Bo-Katan won’t be letting him leave until they do.

“Because that’s why I lost it in the first place. It was given to me by Sabine Wren and I accepted it. I did not earn it. I couldn’t unite the remaining people of Mandalore, but maybe you can. You’ve earned it, Mand’alor.”

She seems sad. Resigned maybe. Clearly still not happy with how this situation has panned out, but reluctantly willing to give Din a shot at ruling. For now anyway. He doesn’t want it. Things have only ever gotten more complicated since he met Grogu, and while he would never regret meeting his son, he regrets a lot of what came with it. He misses the anonymity that came with being a faceless bounty hunter. Tied to no one but himself.

“I don’t know how to lead. I can’t do this.”

“Come with us to Mandalore, you can see what we’ve already started to rebuild.”

And just like that he’s torn in two. 

* * *

He walks with Luke down to the hangar. Luke Skywalker, hero of the Rebellion a few years ago. Cara was ecstatic to be meeting him when he finally managed to introduce himself with a name. 

Din hadn’t ever heard of him. But he tended to stay away from the galaxy at large during the height of the Empire. Life was just simpler when he could wander the outer rim at his own leisure. 

Grogu is babbling away in his arms and Luke’s astromech wheels a short distance in front of them. Things are quiet, peaceful. Somber.

“You’re more than welcome to visit whenever you wish, Mand’alor. Yavin 4. I’ve left the coordinates with Cara.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sure…”

“Din. Djarin.”

It feels strange, having his name roll off his own tongue. He hasn’t needed to introduce himself as anything other than Mando in a long time. It feels refreshing.

“I encourage you to visit, Din. Grogu clearly loves you and having a strong connection to a parent is a special thing.”

Luke seems sad. He’s sure there’s a story behind that, somewhere. Not that Din would expect Luke to divulge his whole life story right now. Though maybe he should if he’s going to be taking Grogu.

“I’ll do what I can, Jedi. I can’t guarantee much right now.”

“I understand.”

Grogu seems to sense the impending goodbye as the little group reaches Luke’s X-Wing. The child reaches up, tapping the side of Din’s helmet again. Din immediately feels his eyes well up with tears like they had on the bridge. But who is he to deny his son?

A slow and shaky hand removes his helmet, once again bearing his face and soul to the two others in the room. Din’s eyes focus on Grogu.

“You be good kid,” he says, a watery chuckle escaping him. If anyone had told him this is how his life would be a year ago he would’ve laughed in their faces. But here he is, crying over his foundling son, passing him on to a new teacher, and all without the mask of his helmet.

Grogu coos. It’s soft and wistful. Somehow, Din knows exactly what the kid is trying to convey.

“Ni kar’taylir gar darasuum, Ad’ika.”

Din pulls the mythosaur skull from under Grogu’s robe, making sure the kid still has it tucked safely against his heart. He bends his head, touching his forehead to the child’s. Dank Farrik, he’s going to miss this kid. He lingers for a moment, letting himself enjoy these final moments with his son. 

He doesn’t want to pull away. 

He knows he has to.

Grogu pulls away first, and the rest of the exchange feels like it occurs in slow motion for Din. He hands his son to Luke. He watches as the two climb into the cockpit. He watches as Luke begins to power up the engines. He watches as Luke says something to him.

“What?”

Luke smiles. Din decides that he likes that smile. It seems reserved, but warm. Like something you’d only share with a close friend.

“Good luck, Din.”

Luke's statement hangs once again. It feels like more than a simple good luck. Like there’s some greater meaning behind those three words. It feels sincere. 

He offers Luke a nod. More tears well in his eyes. A small, solemn smile graces his features for just a moment.

The cockpit closes, and Din’s cape flaps behind him as Luke pulls away from the ship. Din watches from the hanger until the X-Wing winks into hyperspace. He doesn’t know if he made the right decision. He feels lost. Like he’s lost his one companion and isn’t sure when they’ll be reunited.

It isn’t until many minutes later, lost in his own thoughts that he was, that Din realizes he never put his helmet back on. That Luke was able to read every feeling right from his face as he said goodbye. That Luke was able to see just how much his statement of good luck had affected him, even through his sorrow.

Din pulls his helmet back on to cover the blush threatening his face before returning to the bridge to tackle the next of his growing list of problems.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little different from my normal style, but I wanted to try something new. This is a short collection/montage of moments from the year after Din and Grogu are separated and Grogu goes with Luke. So the next chapter picks up a year after the events of chapter 1. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The first time Din visits Grogu and Luke on Yavin 4 he feels extremely out of his element. He knows nothing about Jedi culture, and can’t help but feel a little disconnected to everything Grogu tries to show him.

Luke has four other students. He fawns over his nephew, Ben, the most. All the children play and eat together. And everything about the place strikes Din as happy.

He may not understand the Jedi, but he knows Luke is doing a great job with his students.

* * *

“You sure I can’t convince you to stay another day? I’m sure Grogu would love it.”

“If I stay another day you’ll manage to get me roped into doing a supply run for you. Or worse I’ll get stuck with babysitting duties.”

Luke laughs, and Din wants to hold that memory forever. Yavin 4’s sun is just setting, painting the sky a rosy pink. The fading light shines through the trees and makes Luke’s hair glow. Combined with his smile, everything about the man seems to be brighter than normal.

* * *

Bo-Katan strides into the capitol building with determination. They’ve just heard from the first covert brave enough to reach out to their budding civilization. Mandalorians are retaking Mandalore.

This will be their home again.

Now she just needs to go inform Din.

* * *

Din and Reeves are hunkered down in the trenches of an old Rebellion hideout. They’re taking fire from the locals who weren’t too keen to let the Mandalorian covert go that easily.

Even spread out as they were, Mandalorians still pride themselves on being warriors.

Apparently, that’s what’s been causing the problem here.

They’d receive the communication from the outpost on Crait nearly a month ago. The covert was excited to rejoin the other Mandalorians. The natives of Crait, however? They weren’t so keen on losing the fierce warriors who had been protecting them from neighboring tribes.

But this is Din’s life now. Liberating his people and returning them all safely to Mandalore. They were rebuilding, and Din felt cautiously optimistic.

Reeves knocks her armband against his with a metallic clang. He nods at her and the other warriors lining the trench.

Din hoists himself up from the safety of his cover. The lone protector of the outpost visible to the enemy. Din’s feet crunch against the red salt below him. He takes a handful of steps forward.

“Oya’cye. Kyr’am. Mare’cye. Darasuum. Oya! Oya!” Din chants. His people return his call. _Life, death, revelation, eternity._ The battle cry of the days of old. 

Din takes one last step, reaching across his body to retrieve the dark saber at his hip. He ignites the blade and holds it high. After a moment the rest of the Mandalorians join him on the salt flats, revealing themselves to the enemy. 

Din feels powerful as he leads his people into the battle to free the first covert.

* * *

Grogu babbles at the boy with the horns, arms outstretched to feel the boy’s head. The other children laugh at his antics.

Grogu doesn’t think he’s ever smiled so much. Being here, being around other Force users is a calming experience.

He misses his father. That’s the only drawback. But Buir visits often, and Grogu knows he’s busy being king. They come from two separate worlds, and yet they love each other all the same.

* * *

The first time Luke receives a direct distress call he’s surprised. Most of his communications to the galaxy at large come from the parents of the younglings in his care. That or from Leia calling to yell obscenities about Han’s latest stunt. 

This one’s coming from Felucia.

For the first time in a long time, Luke feels that sense of adventure again. The galaxy is mending itself, reaching out to the Jedi for help once again.

He returns from his mission with a renewed passion for his work.

The children can sense it too. Luke teaches with a renewed vigor for the next two weeks and the Force around the temple blossoms into something warm, welcoming, and full of hope.

* * *

“You can’t join the New Republic. Mandalore has always been a neutral system. If you bring us into this alliance you do so on your own and against my advice.”

Bo-Katan is a hard woman to please. And a hard woman to get rid of.

Somehow she’s managed to insert herself as Din’s advisor. He’d never admit it, but Din is eternally grateful.

He doesn’t know a tenth of the Mandalorian history that she does. She seems a much more capable ruler, so why she doesn’t challenge him for the saber he still doesn’t understand.

Still, Din has people to rule and choices to make regarding the future of Mandalore. He can’t imagine doing it without her help.

* * *

“Hey, Ad’ika. I missed you.”

Grogu waddles up to Din, who wastes no time scooping him up and pressing their foreheads together.

Beskar and green flesh meet with a soft thud.

Grogu’s eyes close for a moment, before opening again. They crinkle at the corners to accommodate for the wide smile that splits his face.

Luke imagines that a similar smile graces Din’s lips.

* * *

“You can’t disappear for so long, Din.”

He had a feeling this talk was coming. Maybe he got a little distracted on Yavin 4. He was just enjoying the serenity that seems to permeate the place.

It’s much different on Mandalore.

Mandalore is a world ruined by war. Things are being rebuilt, but it’s slow. For now, they focus on what is practical, rather than what looks nice.

Necessities come first. Once they have rebuilt, then they can focus their attention back on the art that used to grace the capital city. 

Din longs to see what Mandalore looked like in its prime. All he’s heard are stories.

“Apologies, Bo-Katan. My son needed me.”

“He needed you or you needed him?”

The sound of Din’s chuckle resonates through his helmet with a metallic ring.

“Something like that.”

* * *

Grogu lays awake for much longer than usual lately.

It isn’t like Buir to stay away so long.

He watches the other children as they greet their families during visits. Often, he and Ben sneak away from the hubbub and meditate in the Seeing Stone room. 

The room is ignited every night when the setting sun floods through the many cracks in the stone. It’s peaceful.

The two boys laugh together as they float stones back and forth between them.

* * *

“Where the Kriff have you been?”

That’s a new tone. Din doesn’t think he’s ever had Luke be mad at him.

The tone definitely specifies anger.

“Sorry, Master Jedi. My duties on Mandalore have kept me far longer than I would have liked. You’ve done a great job with all this, though.” He motions to the temple halls he’s been walking through. Lots of murals have been added to the walls. They look old, depicting ancient battles of Jedi from long ago. Still, they’re new to Din.

He’s admiring the work that Luke has put into rebuilding his culture. It’s hard not to be awed.

“I’ve done my best to find relics from the old order. My teachings may be new, but knowing the history of the Jedi is an important tool. Times change and we need to adapt. I’m sure you know a thing or two about that, Mand’alor.”

The two men look at each other for a beat. Luke’s ire long forgotten with a short conversation, they both break out into a soft chuckle. A shy smile is hidden behind Din’s helmet. It matches the one on Luke’s face.

“Titles are too formal then?”

“Too formal, Din.”

Hearing his name roll off of Luke’s tongue is nice. He’s heard it a handful of times over the past year, but each time feels like something new.

* * *

The remnants of the Empire grow bold. They attack the dome that houses the capital city. Sundari is still being reconstructed, but it is growing steadily. 

The blood of warriors runs through the Mandalorians. Despite having no warning about the attack, the Empire is driven off of Mandalore within the day.

Sundari sees more conflict, but the Mandalorians keep it from falling to the Empire for the second time in recent history.

* * *

Luke grows concerned.

Din has been visiting more and more infrequently. It’s taking a toll on Grogu. Luke isn’t quite sure what to do.

He can’t expect Din to drop everything to spend time with his son. The Mand’alor is busy rebuilding his own culture, much like Luke is.

Asking the man to visit more seems inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. But, Luke knows it’s not that simple.

He refrains from asking, just sending updates about Grogu’s progress seems sufficient enough. 

In the darkness, after all the younglings have been put to bed, Luke replays the memories he has of the beskar clad man.

The man who loves his son. The man who is busy rebuilding Mandalore. The man who lights up whenever he gets swarmed by the younglings upon his arrival. The man who offered him a watery smile when he said goodbye to his son for the first time.

Maybe Luke wishes he would visit more if only to experience the Force when he’s around Din. Even through challenging times, it seems to sing around him.

* * *

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To see my son, Bo-Katan. It’s been too long.”

“You can’t. Senator Organa just landed. Apparently the hologram ‘no’ you sent wasn't enough for her.”

Din can feel the disdain flowing off of her. He wants to leave. Kriff all his responsibilities, he misses his son.

He misses watching the golden sunlight seep through the cracks of the temple, bathing everything in a hue that makes Din feel at home. It makes the place look old, but the younglings who wander the halls bring a youth that Din finds refreshing.

He misses the sense of calm he gets every time he pulls in to land. He misses the way Luke smiles at him when he greets him at the landing pad. He misses the way the Jedi manages to chastise him for being away too long, only to turn around and regale him of the stories of Grogu’s training. He misses the way Grogu waddles over to him when he sees him. He misses the way the kid has started pressing his forehead to Din’s all by himself. He misses the wistful look on Luke’s face whenever he says goodbye.

Somehow, Luke never really lets it feel like a goodbye.

Din grits his teeth. His heart yearns for Yavin 4 and all that it holds. But Mandalore needs him too.

“Let’s hear what the Senator has to say then.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone in the Dinluke Discord said they wanted to see more politic-heavy fics (I don’t remember who though, I have a terrible memory I’m sorry). Just so happens that kind of fits what I was planning anyway, so I did my best. As a reminder, this chapter occurs a year after Mando S2E8 and the events of Chapter 1 (and all the following chapters occur with no time jumps)
> 
> I am going to be including the Mando'a translations at the ends of chapters in case anybody cares :)

Din’s done. He’s been done for a while in all honesty. He doesn’t fit in here. He’s always been a loner. Even when he was part of a covert he spent most of his time off on jobs. By himself.

Being around people, other Mandalorians nonetheless, for an extended amount of time is a new experience for Din. And he hates it most of the time. He hates the pomp and circumstance that comes with being Mand’alor and he yearns for the days when it was just him and Grogu traveling throughout the galaxy.

Kriff, when was the last time he went to go see his kid.

He shakes his head, walking out of the Records Hall and into the night. If he’s asking himself that question then it’s been too long. 

The dark saber thuds lightly against his beskar as he walks. It makes his presence known to the few still out this late at night. They all give him a wide berth and he hates it. Even among his own people he is othered. At least nowadays it’s purely because he’s the Mand’alor rather than being seen as a cultist.

If he managed to do one thing right throughout his year as Mand’alor, it was creating a tolerance of the different sects of Mandalorian cultures that popped up when they were all scattered.

Old creed, new creed, nothing much mattered now. As long as they respected the Resol’nare, that was good enough for him. And if it was good enough for him, others tended to follow his lead.

However, with so many eyes looking to him, he’s been feeling the pressure. The pressure to discuss treaties with the New Republic and establish Mandalore as a recognized world. The pressure to find the remaining coverts scattered throughout the outer rim. The pressure to fight against the remnants of the Empire that still threaten them from time to time. The pressure to know the history of his people and to pass that onto the next generation. 

He could go on all night.

Bo-Katan has been helpful, despite still obviously harboring some resentful feelings towards Din. She grew up on Mandalore, she knows their history. She is infinitely more equipped to teach these people what it means to be a Mandalorian. And yet, she still hasn’t challenged him for the dark saber.

Confused as he may be, Din is grateful in her efforts to keep him afloat as Mand’alor.

He reaches the door to his home. It’s a small house, but Din still feels that it’s too big for only a single inhabitant. It’s on the outskirts of the city. Not far enough that he’ll miss out on the activities, but distant enough where he can still seek the solitude he misses. Din steps inside, moving to close the door behind him when a hand catches the edge and wrenches it back open.

“Where have you been? We’ve been trying to contact you for the better part of an hour.”

“Bo-Katan, it is late. I was in the Records Hall trying to pour over more of the material _you_ gave me.”

“Impressive, I didn’t think you’d actually do any of that history homework.”

“Goodnight, Bo-Katan,” Din grits out. It is too late to be discussing trifling details of the history of Sundari. Din doesn’t think he could recall much of his reading right now anyway, exhausted as he was. He should have left the Records Hall hours ago. Maybe it would have at least saved him from this intrusion. And maybe it would have afforded him a peaceful sleep for once. He was going to be grumpier than usual at their daily meetings tomorrow.

“The covert we identified last week. They’ve started sending distress signals,” she says, ignoring Din’s clear dismissal a moment earlier.

“The one on Ord Mantell?”

She nods. Din gives his arms a frustrated wave and the two make their way back into the heart of the city.

Always one more thing to do.

* * *

Din returns to Mandalore four days later with twelve new members. 

He feels like he hasn’t slept in a week. He desperately wants to make a hasty retreat back to his home. _Give me one day to be a hermit,_ he thinks.

“Su cuy'gar, Mand’alor,” Koska Reeves greets just as Din turns to make his way from the landing pad.

Din can only bring himself to return her greeting with a nod.

“The New Republic has been hailing you while you were gone.”

“Of course they have.” Din sighs. No rest for the wicked. “Lead the way.”

When he and Reeves enter the capitol building’s chambers he is greeted by a hologram of Leia Organa. 

“Mand’alor,” she says with a small bow.

“Senator Organa. I apologize for my absence. A fellow covert needed assistance against the Empire. We rescued twelve, and have relocated them here.”

Din’s gaze slides through Leia’s hologram to Bo-Katan on the opposite end of the table. She nods at him, clearly approving of his use of a formal greeting and concise report despite her otherwise blank face. 

“I applaud your efforts,” Leia says. Din bristles at her tone. He always does. She seems like a nice woman, one he might have gladly travelled with if the circumstances were different. But she is a senator, and he is a king. Professionalism reigns supreme and Din hates every second of it.

“Have you given any more thought to joining the New Republic? We gather more systems every day. We can offer a seat in the senate and safe passage along all established trade routes between the allied systems. Not to mention that the New Republic could greatly benefit from the protection you and your warriors could offer against the First Order.”

The majority of her pitch is old news. He’s heard it ever since word got out that Mandalore was being populated again. Personally, he wanted to accept the Senator’s offer. Having a greater understanding of the happenings in the galaxy was probably a smart move if he was to preserve The Way, and having allies is never a bad idea. That lesson took time, but he will forever be thankful to all those who aided him in getting the child to Luke.

However, Din tends to run much of the political agenda by Bo-Katan, as she’s the resident expert. Historically, Mandalore has always been a neutral system, and Bo-Katan seems loath to change that. Reeves also didn’t like the sound of the Mandalorians becoming the on call militia for the New Republic. Din has refrained from making a decision so far.

The First Order, though? That’s new. He hasn’t been briefed on any new threat with that namesake.

“The First Order, Senator?”

“The First Order is a coalition of Empire remnants. They’ve been gaining ground in the outer rim territories in the last few months.”

“And why should we care?” Bo-Katan asks. Always so blunt, that one. She often lectures him about his tone when speaking to leaders, but apparently her own rules don’t apply to her.

“We have reason to believe that Moff Gideon’s second in command, General Hux, is leading the new regime. Much of Gideon’s agenda is still being carried out in his absence.”

Both Bo-Katan and Reeves look to him. This isn’t a conversation to have in Senator Organa’s presence though.

“Thank you for the information Senator. We will be in touch. Ret’urcye mhi,” Din says, plastering on his diplomatic voice once more. Once Leia’s hologram flickers out he turns to his two advisors.

“Why haven’t we heard anything about this yet?”

“I don’t think we’ve been looking close enough. We’ve just always assumed the troopers were still individual bands of Empire hold-outs,” Reeves pipes up. It’s not much of an excuse.

“It would explain the constant attacks on every covert that we locate though. Nearly every one, within a month of reaching out to us, gets attacked. That level of coordination does suggest a bigger enemy at play,” Bo-Katan says. While they aren’t necessarily friends, Din greatly admires her strategic mind. It comes in handy when bigger problems present themselves.

“This changes things. If Organa is right and the First Order is still carrying out Gideon’s instructions then it’s only a matter of time before they attack us and send us scrambling back into the woodwork. We could use the support of the New Republic. It might buy us some time.”

“And you’d have us forgo centuries of tradition? Mandalore remained neutral throughout the entirety of the Clone Wars. We don’t need their help!” 

She’s yelling now. Tensions have always been high, but the lack of sleep after rescuing the latest covert has them all on edge.

Against his better judgement, Din takes the bait.

“And look where that left us! Weak and scattered! We are rebuilding now because the danger has passed, but if we were all wrong, and that danger never died, then we are just waiting around here to repeat that history of failure!” 

He’s breathing heavy. His armor feels uncharacteristically stifling. He wants to hit something.

Bo-Katan replaces her helmet onto her head, hiding the rage that’s been building. He doesn’t blame her. He’s stoking her fire and he knows it.

“I did everything I could for my people. I’m trying to do right by them again.”

Din thinks back to something Luke told him once upon a time. “Times change. Maybe we need to adapt rather than resist that change.”

“And what if the Senator is wrong?”

“Then we gain more secure trade routes,” Din says, throwing his hands up. “I don’t see the issue with joining the New Republic beyond breaking tradition.”

Bo-Katan crosses her arms. She’s clearly not happy with him, but right now Din can’t bring himself to care. Reeves looks between the two of them, not really sure of who to side with. 

Bo-Katan mutters something that sounds an awful lot like “aruetii.”

“Want to say that to my face?” Din taunts.

She remains silent.

“Leave me.”

* * *

Din once again arrives home much too late. Dawn will be breaking in a few hours. This time, thankfully, the door closes with no further intrusions. 

Din lets himself slide to the floor, back pressed against the door. He doesn’t know if he made the right decision today.

For better or for worse, Mandalore has officially joined the New Republic.

His helmeted head clunks on the door, breaking him from his rumination of today’s events. Din slides the offending piece of beskar off, breathing in fresh air for what feels like the first time in days. 

A wave of tiredness falls over him suddenly. He supposes it’s about time he allowed himself to sleep. The helmet falls from his hands, rolling across the floor. It comes to rest as it smacks against the table along the far wall, wobbling the contents on top.

_Tink._

Din pops one eye open, looking for what fell from the table, but not investing enough energy in actually getting up to retrieve it. 

Not until he spots it, anyway. Grogu’s ball. And that’s all it takes to have Din on his feet again, collecting his helmet and placing it back on his head. He bends over to grab the ball too, rolling it between his fingers before placing it on his belt.

Din cautiously opens the door to his home, as if he was committing a crime just by doing so. 

He doesn’t expect to find anyone out this late anyway, and especially not this far from the center of the city. Still, Din slinks through the shadows as he makes his escape.

_No, it’s not an escape. I’m not running away. I just need some time to think. I’m coming back._

It isn’t until he reaches his new ship, The Shriek Hawk, and punches in the coordinates for Yavin 4 that Din finally allows himself to relax enough to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations:
> 
> Mand'alor = (alor = leader) literally translated as sole ruler  
> Resol'nare = (resol = six) six tenants of mando society: Education, Armor, Family, Defense, Mando'a, following the Mand'alor  
> Su cuy'gar = hello (literally: you're still alive)  
> Ret'urcye mhi = goodbye (literally: maybe we'll meet again)  
> Aruetii = traitor


	4. Chapter 4

Din is once again met with Luke greeting him at the landing pad. Unfortunately, there is no smile gracing his face this time around.

He’s been gone far too long and they both know it.

As Din walks down the ramp of The Shriek Hawk, he finds himself unwilling to meet Luke’s eyes. There’s a niggling feeling in the back of his head that tells him that if he were to look at Luke, the Jedi would see right through him and his beskar armor.

He’s not sure he can handle that right now.

Instead, Din offers a sheepish, “I’m sorry.” He makes sure to keep his eyes firmly on the rocks at his feet.

Luke doesn’t respond, which is probably worse than if he had said anything. The Jedi turns effortlessly on his heels and starts to walk back towards the Jedi Temple.

Din rushes after him, catching Luke’s wrist to turn him back around. Luke’s eyes seem cloudy and unfocused. For all Luke talks about being in touch with his emotions, sometimes Din thinks it’s all a farce.

He thinks he hears Luke gasp as he spins him.

“I am sorry, Luke.”

“I know.”

Luke’s eyes are searching his helmeted face. Din feels the compulsion to remove his helmet, not something he’s done around anyone since he left Grogu in Luke’s care. It’s not something he should be thinking about at all. He still lives by the old creed. Still, it’s an impulse Din has to consciously fight against.

Luke blinks.

Din stares back.

One more shuddering breath is taken by the Jedi, and the spell is broken. Luke glances around the landing pad, seemingly remembering where he is. His eyes land on Din’s hand, still grasping his wrist.

Similarly, Din finds his hand still wrapped around the slim arm. He hadn’t thought to let go yet, but clearly he’s been holding on longer than he should have.

“How’s Grogu?” Din asks as he finally releases Luke from his grip. Luke’s other hand comes to rub gently at the spot Din had just let go of. Din rubs his fingers together, the ghost of Luke’s wrist still burning at his fingertips.

“He’s sleeping. They all are.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean, Din? Because lately you say one thing, like ‘I’ll be back soon’ and then you don’t show up for three months.”

“It-”

“Yes it has. It’s been three months, Din. Three months of having to tell Grogu that his Buir will be back eventually, but not being able to tell him exactly when.”

The fact that Luke uses the word Buir surprises Din. He figured in his absence that all the Mando’a words he taught Grogu would have faded out of the child’s meager vocabulary. Even while getting scolded, Din picks up on the little things.

“I told you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not me you need to apologize to.”

It feels like he does though. Din’s not quite sure why. A year of seeing Luke for a handful of days at a time and somehow the Jedi seems to have wormed his way into Din’s mind. Maybe they don’t speak often, but Din feels connected to Luke in a way.

He writes it off as being grateful to the Jedi for teaching his kid.

“Maybe not, but in my experience it’s never hurt.” Din tries to make his voice light. He hadn’t come here to wallow in his own failings as a father, but as an escape from the hardships that come with resurrecting a broken culture.

“If you think apologizing to me is going to make this all better-”

“I don’t think that, no. I just meant that I’m sorry for keeping you up so late. You come to meet me every time at this landing pad without fail. You must have been out here waiting for me for a while, both tonight and every night that I never showed up.”

Luke is quiet. He hadn’t meant to spook the Jedi into silence. Maybe his words had hit closer to the truth that he had originally thought.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Stop apologizing for things you don’t need to apologize for, Din. It’s good to have you back is all.”

There’s a slow smile that creeps along the Jedi’s face. A spot of warmth and comfort among the chilly night breeze.

Even with the rocky start, Din is grateful for Luke’s presence during his arrival. Luke turns away again, but this time the tension is cleared and even Luke’s steps seem lighter. Din follows him into the temple, footsteps falling into sync with Luke’s.

The air is still cool, but the temple retains its heat from the day well. The simple torches lining the walls and illuminating the artwork there always fascinate Din. Luke tries to teach him about them sometimes, generally on nights when Luke finds him wandering the halls after getting off the comms with Bo-Katan.

He doesn’t understand much of it, but he appreciates the effort Luke goes to include him on the history that his son will soon be a part of.

Tonight, however, is not one of those nights. 

Luke can sense how tired Din is, and while the stern talking to on the landing pad seemed necessary despite Din’s drained state, a lesson would do him no favors. So, Luke holds his tongue and walks in silence down the corridors of the temple. He makes note of which pieces of art catch Din’s attention as they walk by and stores the information for the next time he has a chance to teach the Mandalorian about Jedi history.

The pair eventually reach Din’s room. More accurately, the room that he stays in when he visits. Din doesn’t think he really visits enough to classify it as solely his room.

That thought makes Din cringe. He really does need to visit more.

Luke’s hand finds its way to Din’s pauldron, covering the Mudhorn signet printed there. The gesture causes Din’s helmet to snap to meet Luke’s gaze. There’s something in Luke’s eyes, but Din can’t quite place it.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

The words seem to drip with meaning. Like Luke isn’t just saying it to be polite. 

Din can’t form a response before Luke moves away, his hand scraping across beskar. His dark cloak makes him disappear into the darkness of the hallway much quicker than Din would have liked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's a little short, I still thought it was important to include.


	5. Chapter 5

Din’s commlink is beeping. He lets it ring itself into silence. He knows who it’s from and frankly he still needs some time to cool off. 

Reluctantly, Din pops one eye open, taking in the soft sunlight filtering into his room. He slowly pulls himself from bed, driven by the fact that once he’s ready for his day he can track down and spend some time with Grogu.

The halls are still quiet when he emerges from his room. It’s still early, most of the younglings are still probably asleep. But Din has gotten used to functioning on too little sleep. Running on a fading memory, Din makes his way down a handful of hallways looking for the dining room. While he can function on little sleep, he tends to get cranky when he forgoes food.

He spots Luke on his quest. The man is standing on a balcony formed by a large hole in the rock wall. The morning sun shines on his face. His eyes are closed but Din is under no illusion that he’s snuck up on the Jedi. Still, Din can’t help but stare as the light makes Luke’s skin shine. It’s a handsome contrast to his dark attire.

“Good morning, Din,” Luke says, rolling his shoulders and turning to face Din. He throws a quick wink in Din’s direction before joining him back in the temple’s hall.

“Jate’vaar’tur,” Din sputters. He rolls his eyes at himself.  _ The Jedi doesn’t know Mando’a you dolt. _

Apparently he falls back on the language when he gets flustered.

Not that Luke makes him flustered.

Kriff.

Luke just smiles back at him, though. As if he’d said something that actually made sense to the man.

“The younglings are rarely up this early.”

“That’s fine.” Din inwardly curses his inability to talk to people using complex sentences.

Regardless, Luke is still smiling at him. His eyes crinkle at the corners. The man’s entire demeanor is bright and welcoming.

“I imagine you’re looking for breakfast, though.”

“Something like that.”

Luke moves past him, saying nothing more. The momentary brush of shoulders seems charged. A feeling you’d associate with a close friend. Din’s not sure he’s worthy of that title now, if he ever was. Not after all the time he’s spent away.

After a moment to contemplate this, Din turns and falls into step with Luke. It feels much nicer than when they did this last night. Last night was cautious, a testing of the waters after much time apart. 

This morning feels familiar. Like this was a common occurrence. That Mandalorian Kings and Jedi Masters had breakfasts together every day. 

Maybe that was just Din projecting. Yavin 4 just feels comfortable. Being around Luke feels comfortable, even if Din is still slightly unsure of himself and how he fits into all this.

They arrive at the dining room too quickly for Din’s liking. He’d have been content walking next to Luke and daydreaming for a few more minutes. But all good things must come to an end he supposes.

Luke wastes no time setting up some food for the two of them, as well as setting some more out for when the younglings eventually start waking themselves.

“How long are you here for?”

Din smiles ruefully under his helmet. He probably should have figured that Luke’s cheery disposition from this morning wouldn’t last terribly long. Not that this question is meant to pick a fight. Din would just rather forget about all his responsibilities for a few days.

“Not sure. I just… needed to get away for awhile.”

“No one’s going to come looking for you? I can’t have people thinking I kidnapped the Mand’alor.”

Luke is trying to make it better, and Din knows this. His statement still feels stunted somehow. Like a joke that just barely missed its mark.

“Bo-Katan has already tried contacting me. Building Sundari from the ground up is more challenging than I anticipated. Not to mention trying to rekindle the entirety of Mandalorian society at the same time. My life has always been one of repetition. When I was working for the guild it was simple. I’d get the bounty puck, research the target, bring them in warm or cold, collect the reward, protect the covert. And then I’d get up and do it all over again.”

Din is acutely aware that he’s probably never talked this much at once. But, the floodgates are open now and he finds it hard to stop.

“Then with the kid I’d hear a rumor about another Mandalorian, investigate the lead, protect the kid, get sent on a wild bantha chase, get a new lead. And then we found you. You broke that cycle. And now I have no idea what I’m doing anymore. I’ve been thrust into this role that brings new challenges every day. New enemies, new treaties, new arguments. I don’t know what I’m doing.” His voice goes very quiet. “I don’t want to let them all down.”

Luke regards him for a moment, and Din has to resist the urge to squirm under his gaze. Din’s mind is racing, wondering what profound and passionate speech the Jedi is about to give him.

“If you’re missing the good old days you could do a supply run for me.”

That’s definitely not what he was expecting to come out of Luke’s mouth. He can’t help but smirk underneath his helmet.

“What, no empowering  _ you can do this _ speech?”

“No. You can do it, but that’s not what you need to hear right now. You haven’t given yourself enough time to adjust. Do one job like you did used to, I can almost guarantee it’ll help you feel better.”

“And how do I know you’re not just trying to get rid of me?”

Luke levels him with a chastising look that Din wouldn’t wish on his greatest enemy. He knows Luke wouldn’t actively plot to get rid of him. He’d always made it abundantly clear that Din was welcome at the temple. Din throws his hands up in a mock surrender.

“You should eat,” Luke says, motioning to the food he’s prepared. “I’m sure Grogu wouldn’t mind being woken up by you with food. I’ll gather my list of leads on artifacts, and we can go over them later?”

“As you wish.”

Luke smiles briefly, before he ducks his head. It’s not quite a nod. More like he was trying to hide his face. It puzzles Din, but then again when has anything about Luke, or the Jedi at large, not been cause for confusion.

Din gathers some food in his arms, looking through the contents Luke had laid out before settling on the items he thinks Grogu will like best. He makes his way towards the exit but pauses in the doorway. A slow turn of his head back towards Luke reveals the Jedi had been looking at him. 

_ Luke was watching me leave _ . The thought weighs in Din’s mind more than it probably should.

“Thank you, Luke.”

“Ba’gedet’ye.”

Din’s barking laugh echoes in his own helmet. It contrasts starkly with the quiet morning and the still empty halls of the temple.

“That is absolutely not how you say that.”

Luke’s answering face will forever be imprinted in Din’s mind.

* * *

Watching Grogu blink open his sleepy eyes was the best thing Din had seen in a long time. Having the kid excitedly tap on his helmet and reach for his unmasked face was another thing altogether. 

Din can feel the stress of the previous months washing off him in waves. It makes him wonder why he ever stopped coming in the first place. 

The morning passes too quickly for Din’s liking. But he takes pride in watching his son throughout his morning of training. Seeing the kid’s progress from when he was last here is impressive. Luke’s training reports were definitely underselling the kid’s talents. 

There isn’t much to see in the way of physical training, as Grogu still waddles around like a toddler. Sometimes Din thinks he’s liable to tip over at any moment. But what Grogu lacks in combat training he makes up for with his connection to the force.

Din still doesn’t really get it. Luke had tried explaining it to him countless times over. He just doesn’t understand how a power that flows through all living things and binds them together translates into being able to move things with your mind. Luke always yells at him about that too, saying the force is more than just being able to move things at will. But that’s all Din can see, so that’s what he understands.

Regardless, seeing Grogu move rocks as big as Din when other younglings struggle with small stones brings Din a certain sense of paternal pride.

It doesn’t matter that they’re from different worlds. The kid and him are still family, and family supports each other even if they don’t always get it. He should probably make sure Grogu knows that fact before he leaves again. Because Din knows he’ll have to leave again and he needs to make sure that the kid knows he loves him and that he’ll be back. Aliit stays together even when they’re on opposite ends of the galaxy.

Eventually it’s time for the younglings to meditate, the group of about ten kids retreating to the Seeing Stone room. Din’s been in there a few times. Even tried his hand at meditation once, on Luke’s suggestion. It’s helpful at times, centering even. But Din is much too impatient to sit around contemplating life for as long as the Jedi can. He’d much rather take out his aggression in a training room.

But Din’s being supportive, walking along with the kids. Many of them chatter away, asking Din the usual questions about his armor and the lightsaber at his hip. 

“It’s not a lightsaber. I am not a jedi. The dark saber can’t be a jetii’kad if its wielder is not a jetii.”

“Can we see it Mister Mando?” a young twi’lek girl asks.

“He only uses it when he and Master Luke spar,” Ben answers for Din. “Maybe you can spar for us tonight?”

Din can’t help but smile. The minds of children are truly wonderful. “I’ll ask Luke. But you all have to promise to go meditate like you’re supposed to now.”

Ben’s eyes light up with childlike glee. He takes Grogu from Din’s arms, promising that he’ll get everyone to the Seeing Stone room and that Din is free to go find Luke.

Din shakes his head as he watches the gaggle of younglings walk down the temple hall, Ben launching into a vivid description of the last time Luke and Din sparred for the younglings and how beautifully elegant the dark saber was.

Finding Luke isn’t a challenge. Despite the vastness of the temple, Luke is also a creature of habit, usually populating one of three rooms.

The sparring room is empty, though Din wasn’t expecting Luke to be here today. Usually that space is reserved for when Luke is particularly frustrated, past the point where meditation helps. The gardens are also blissfully quiet today. More often than not, this is where Din can find Luke if he’s not actively training the younglings. Luke’s farming habits from his childhood are still a sense of comfort for him now.

So, off to the archives it is.

The library that Luke has amassed holds only a fraction of information that the Jedi once held in their grand archives. Luke has often lamented about how much information was lost to the Empire, and Din understands that sense of loss. The room slowly grows more cluttered though, and each time Din visits it brings a smile to his face to see the fruits of Luke’s labor.

Recovering lost information can be next to impossible, and the fact that both he and Luke are succeeding in their quests is a feat unto itself.

“Figured I’d find you here.”

“You say that like I don’t want to be found.”

Din shrugs. “I don’t want to be found but I came running to the same place I always do.”

“I suppose we’re just both creatures of habit then,” Luke says, echoing Din’s thoughts from a moment ago and finally looking up from the book he had been studying.

A small chuckle escapes Din. Luke has a point. They’re more similar than Din would care to admit. They both understand a lot of what the other is going through. The frustrations and the victories of relearning lost knowledge. The pressure of leading their cultures. Sometimes having a friend who understands that struggle makes all the difference.

“So what artifact are you going to have me go track down?”

“I figured I’d let you choose. I have a list of reports over on that table. There’s a short blurb of history about each item along with whatever information was reported about location and who’s holding the items.”

“Great, more history lessons.”

“We haven’t done an art lesson out in the halls for a while, I figured this would make up for lost time.”

Luke’s grinning at him, a sly glint in his eyes. Din probably deserves that one though.

“I’m going to go check on the younglings. Force knows they’re not actually meditating like they’re supposed to.”

Luke moves away from the desk he was studying at, passing Din at the doorway. He tosses back a sarcastic “Have fun!” as he leaves Din in the cluttered space.

Din walks towards the table that Luke had specified, glancing at the book Luke had been reading as he passed it. The language causes Din to do a double take.

It’s all written in Mando’a.

He looks at the cover. It’s not a book he recognizes from the ones Bo-Katan had made him read. Flipping through the pages he realizes it’s a story book. Some poems detailing a fantastic tale of Mandalorian warriors. Of warring tribes, strong families, and powerful love.

Din supposes that this book is probably the source of Luke’s horribly pronounced Mando’a. And maybe the reason that Grogu still refers to Din as Buir. It’s a kind gesture that Din finds endearing.

Even while trying to instill the Jedi culture in Grogu, Luke had gone out of his way to keep Mandalorian culture around too.

When Din finally starts sifting through the reports Luke had left him he does so much more slowly than normal, thoughts constantly turning to the Jedi teaching himself Mando’a.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jate'vaar'tur = good morning  
> Ba'gedet'ye = you're welcome  
> Aliit = family  
> Jetti'kad = lightsaber (jetti = jedi, kad = sword)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it's been a while! I was moving back to college and getting set for classes. But now that I'm all settled in I'm hoping to get back to regularly updating again!

It doesn’t take long for Din to decide on what report he wants to follow up on. There’s one detailing an orphan child, one who’s managed to scare the other locals with her powers. And as much trouble as caring for Grogu might have caused Din, the payoff of finally seeing him back with his people was worth it.

And Din obviously has a soft spot for foundlings.

It’s a little harder to convince Luke. The Jedi had only expected him to pick out a simple retrieval mission. Something to take his mind off of his grander duties. Not something that would end up being a rescue mission.

“She’s a kid, Luke. You can’t just leave her out there indefinitely.”

“She’s on Jakku, it’s pretty much nowhere.”

“But if you got this report it’s only a matter of time until she gets reported to someone that will see her as a threat.”

“The Empire remnants are much too scattered now to conceivably track down anyone who is Force sensitive. With your victory over Moff Gideon they have all been struggling to regroup.”

“That’s not what Senator Organa has to say.” Din knows pulling Leia into this is a cheap move. Luke will always take a softer stance if his sister has an opposing view.

“And what does my dear younger sister have to say about the Empire remnants. I figured her New Republic would be able to swiftly dismantle their remaining sects.”

“She says they’ve been coalescing. Into something called the First Order. They’ve been targeting any coverts we identify and chances are good if they’re still targeting Mandalorians they wouldn’t hesitate to target the Jedi too.”

Luke goes quiet. His eyebrows pull together tightly in contemplation. Din didn’t mean to worry Luke with this information, but one can never be too careful these days. Especially with the uphill battle that Din and Luke are struggling though to restore civilizations that the Empire destroyed. 

“You’re endangering her the longer you leave her out there. You can help her, Luke,” Din presses.

Luke can’t contain the slow smile creeping onto his face. Though he does try to suppress it before it gets too noticeable.

“What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” Luke shakes his head. “You’re just good with kids. Come back safe?” Luke’s face is earnest. 

Din was expecting more of a fight, so to be met with Luke’s understanding face and shining eyes throws him off balance. His mouth falls open a little, not that Luke can see it behind his beskar. 

“Of course, I can't leave you and the younglings hanging. Besides, if I didn’t come back in one piece Bo-Katan would really come after you.”

Luke chuckles, “I’m sure she would.”

Din holds out his hand to Luke, who takes his forearm rather than shaking his hand. It’s a more traditional Mandalorian farewell, and once again Din is surprisingly shocked at Luke’s inclusion of Mando culture. 

Luke’s eyes search Din’s helmet and, impossibly, he manages to find Din’s eyes. Din doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until Luke inches forward and rests his forehead against Din’s helmet. His exhale is shaky as he watches Luke’s eyes flutter close. 

Din’s first thought is that Luke doesn’t know what he’s doing. That maybe he’d witnessed this ritual between Din and Grogu and just assumed it was a traditional Mandalorian greeting. That he doesn't fully grasp the significance of the headbutt. But as his mind races through all the possibilities his thoughts return to Luke’s book. The one in Mando’a. The one that included details of Mandalorian love.

Surely it had mentioned mirshmure'cya at some point.

Which meant Luke absolutely knew what he was doing.

_ Kark. _

Luke pulls away before Din has a chance to reciprocate in any fashion. He’s still frozen in shock, tense from the unexpected turn of the night. His hand is still gripping Luke’s forearm. He squeezes once before letting go, hoping that it’s enough.

“I’ll be back soon.” Din’s voice is rougher than normal. He hopes that Luke doesn’t pick up on it. “Don’t let Grogu eat any of the local fauna while I’m gone.”

“Of course, your son is safe with me.”

“I know.” And he does. He never would have left Grogu with Luke if he hadn’t trusted him.

The two are staring at each other again. Neither really sure how to say goodbye without addressing the obvious. 

Din tries to remember some of the lessons Luke had given him on Jedi etiquette. If Luke had made an effort to learn the traditional way to court a Mandalorian the least he could do was repay that debt with Jedi traditions.

He clearly remembers Luke saying that, historically, the Jedi were not allowed attachments and therefore never married or had long term romantic relationships. That memory puts an immediate damper on Din’s plan. He does recall that Jedi traditionally bowed in greetings or farewells as a sign of respect. And he is supposed to be leaving.

He doesn’t really want to leave anymore.

But no, he’s got to go get this kid. Then he can come back, little Jedi in tow, and he and Luke can talk about what just happened. He still needs time to process it all anyways.

So, Din takes a slow centering breath. He shuffles his feet, straightens his back and clasps his hands in front of him, a perfect mirror of Luke’s current stance.

His bow is not over pronounced, just a tip of the head and a slight bend at the waist. Luke’s answering smile of approval is all Din needs to know his gesture was appreciated.

“Ret’urcye mhi,” Luke says, similarly unwilling to let this conversation end.

“Not how you say that one either. I’ll see you soon.”

Din grasps Luke’s shoulder as he crosses the landing pad. He’d put Grogu to bed a few hours earlier and had said goodnight to many of the younglings too. He’s leaving Yavin 4 feeling much lighter than he had when he arrived. With a clear conscience and a renewed sense of adventure, Din boards The Shriek Hawk and charts his course to Jakku. 

* * *

Luke watches as Din pulls away. He always watches for as long as he can, refusing to return to the temple until the ship is out of view and safely on its way.

Even after The Shriek Hawk disappears into the night sky Luke waits on the landing pad. He revels in the cool breeze that flows through his robes and ruffles his hair.

He had been forward tonight, taking a chance with Din. With the exception of seeing Din’s face again, it was probably the biggest risk he could have taken with the man. Luke just hoped Din hadn’t thought it was too sudden. 

He’d spent a year admiring from afar, taking in Din’s interactions with Grogu and the other younglings whenever he came to visit. He’d constantly remind himself of what the man looked like under that helmet, even when he sometimes feels guilty for doing so. 

Din is someone Luke struggles to understand at times. A man who is doing everything to lead his people, despite not wanting to be a leader. A man who cares for his son, despite often thinking he’s not doing enough as a father. A man of few words who always seems to know what to say. Fiercely protective of his own and yet gentle with children.

He’s a complex man and Luke can’t help but want to peel back his armor to see the man underneath.

It doesn’t help that the Force swells whenever he’s around. It blooms into something bright and beautiful enough to rival the twin suns on Tatooine. Sometimes the shine of his beskar seems to magnify the whole effect too. 

That’s probably why he ended up pouring over the one Mandalorian book he’d found on his travels. Just to see if he could understand the man better. Not that it’d helped, there was no history to be found within, just tales of love and war. But even in fiction there’s a shred of reality, and evidently he’d used it effectively.

He’d kissed Din because he’d wanted to. Because the man was caring and passionate and the Force was ballooning around him, encompassing Luke with a swell of affection for the man. But Din had not immediately reciprocated, which is where Luke’s insecurity about the interaction comes in. 

He can wonder indefinitely until Din returns about what was going through his mind. But for now, the picture of Din mimicking Luke’s posture and bowing like a Jedi is enough to hold him over. 

And if Luke imagines that Din was blushing underneath his helmet, that is nobody’s business except his own.

* * *

His flight to Jakku had been uneventful. He’d filled the time thinking about Luke and the kiss. He still couldn’t quite believe it. Not that it was unwelcome.

Din had often found himself mesmerized by the Jedi. Over the course of just his most recent visit Din had caught himself staring at Luke more than once. He’d caught Luke looking on a few occasions too.

It felt normal.

In a world where Din feels wrongfully worshipped as the Mand’alor, Luke makes him feel like a person again. He makes Din feel individually important, like he could be anyone in the galaxy and there would still be room for him in Luke’s life. It’s a weighty topic that Din’s not sure he can unpack on his own.

Luke is a master of his own craft, and Din finds himself wondering if that’s the reason he feels drawn to the man. That thought gets quickly shaken away, as Din immediately conjures up images of the sun kissing Luke’s face, of him meditating with the younglings in the Seeing Stone room, of him sitting next to an unruly plant in the garden, talking to it to get it to grow, of him waiting in the shadows of the landing pad as Din brings The Shriek Hawk in to land.

It’s about the small things. The quiet moments they’ve shared. Neither man was ever overly forward, much preferring to take glances or make miniscule gestures.

Luke’s kiss had just caught him off guard. It was worlds above anything else the two had shared. It was a natural progression that Din is sorry he didn’t see coming.

He’s going to fix it when he gets back. But for now, there’s a tiny Jedi to go save.

Din sets The Shriek Hawk down just outside the small trading post nearest the coordinates reported in the file. He checks his equipment before debarking. He knows he’s an intimidating image walking into the small town square, beskar glinting in the sun, amban rifle strapped to his back, blaster at one hip and dark saber at the other. He’s met with greasy stares as he makes his way through the market, no doubt attracting more attention than he wants due to the nature of his unique armor and impressive arsenal. 

It’s not long before he finds the vendor who had filed the report on the Force sensitive child. The imposing man spots Din, who had joined the line of scavengers waiting for their turn to sell their goods, and calls him up to the front.

“Surely you’re not here to sell your goods at Plutt’s Emporium? What quarry are you chasing bounty hunter?”

Plutt’s rancid breath permeates even through Din’s helmet. The man is sweaty and disgusting and he reminds Din of a small Hutt. The way he’s eyeing Din and his armor doesn’t set him at ease either.

“I’m tracking a young girl you reported. She’s wanted for having some sort of powerful magic.”

“That girl is bad for business. She runs off all my other scavengers whenever she comes in. No one wants to be hurt by her after her last display. She nearly tore the roof off my building.” 

Din’s not amused. He has a sneaking suspicion that the girl probably had a good reason for such a large outburst. Grogu acted out when he was scared. Some of the things he could do were dangerous, but he didn’t use them unless he thought he had to. The girl is probably the same.

“Where can I find her?”

“She makes her home out in the sand,” Plutt gestures away from the market. “Probably somewhere before the star destroyer wreckage.”

“How long of a journey is it?” Whatever information Din can get out of him could be helpful, even if he hates having to talk to Plutt for a second more than strictly necessary.

“Not more than a day’s walk.”

Din taps the counter in thanks. He turns to leave when Plutt calls him back once more.

“That’s beskar isn’t it? I could pay a hefty price.”

“It’s not for sale, chakaar.”

The insult flies over Plutt’s head, who shoots Din a menacing smile. “Sure. You’ll make better time if you walk through the gorge. You’ll avoid the sinking sands that way.”

Din nods and makes his way back into the harsh Jakku sun. He can see the gorge on the horizon, offering a break to the endless desert sands. He presses a button on his wrist controls, and when no beep accompanies it he looks down in confusion before he realizes what he’s doing.

He’d pressed the control to have Grogu’s pram follow him.

It’s been a long time, but clearly muscle memory is a hard thing to lose. Din shakes his head at his own mistake. He knows he  _ just _ left Grogu, but he really does need to spend some more time with him.

Ultimately, Din makes his way towards the gorge opening, a lonely feeling settling over him.

The lonely feeling doesn’t last long, however. Less than a mile into the gorge Din is acutely aware that he’s being watched. He can’t tell from where. Constant scans of the gorge’s face suggest that there are no caves for people to hide, and the heat scanner built into his visor is all but useless out in the desert. 

Din is on guard, but continues on his quest regardless. No sense in showing your hunters that you’re onto them. It ruins the fun, and Din was counting on this mission to bring some much needed fun back into his life.

Din doesn’t see the sniper shot from the top of the gorge, as the angle makes it seem like the shot originates from the center of the sun high overhead.

The shot connects, clanging against the beskar protecting his chest. It sends him stumbling back, tripping over the outstretched rifle of another man hiding behind a large and rocky outcropping. Din tumbles ungracefully to the ground, hitting his head hard on the way down. 

Not even the light of Jakku’s sun penetrates the darkness that eclipses Din’s vision as he slips into unconsciousness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mirshmure'cyase = keldabe kisses, an affectionate headbutt (literally brain kiss)  
> Ret'urcye mhi = goodbye (literally maybe we'll meet again)  
> Chakaar = corpse robber/thief/petty criminal


	7. Chapter 7

There’s a low hum emanating from somewhere. It’s too bright to see where from. Why is it so bright?

Jakku.

Right.

Din shields his eyes from the sun, bringing his armorless forearm into view. That’s not a great sign. A quick inventory shows the beskar covering his arms is gone, as is the shin guard on his left leg. It takes him a moment longer to realize his helmet is gone.

_ Why does this always happen to me? _

His weapons are gone too. His blaster isn’t far away, but it seems much further than the fall should have thrown it.

Din’s eyes are adjusting slowly to the bright light of Jakku, taking in the fact that his armor and weapons are strewn about randomly. He’s at the mouth of the gorge now, the imposing view of a fallen star destroyer providing some reprieve from the harsh sun. There’s something obvious he’s missing about this whole situation that he can’t figure out.

The hum.

Din knows that hum.

The unnatural shine of the dark saber contrasts the shadow of the destroyer. A small figure covered head to toe in sand colored cloth wields the weapon with a grace Din envies. They cut through Din’s attackers with little fanfare, their forms are rough, favoring effectiveness over style.

Din is still sitting in the sand, looking on in awe as the figure dispatches the last of the men. With one swift motion Din’s savior removes the cloth wrap around their head. She’s just a kid, and Din immediately knows she’s the one he’d set out to rescue. There’s no other explanation for how this ten year old managed to cut through so many enemies so easily. Her attention then gets turned to him, and Din is once again acutely aware of the fact that his helmet is still missing. An immediate sweep of the battlefield shows that one of the men had put it on before engaging with the girl. 

The girl must sense something of Din’s discomfort, as she switches off the dark saber and strides towards his helmet. She gingerly slips it from the man’s head and offers it back to Din. He notices that she averts her gaze after a moment, and Din appreciates the gesture.

He places the helmet back on his head, exhaling a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The metallic ring to his voice is comforting when he asks, “You got a name, kid?”

“Rey.” She offers him an arm up. Din expects her to struggle helping him up, but once again Din is surprised by Rey.

The two set about gathering the rest of Din’s gear in silence. Eventually, Rey’s curiosity gets the best of her.

“That’s pure beskar isn’t it? That must be worth a fortune.”

“It is. And it’s not for sale. I already told your boss that.”

“Explains why he sent his goons after you to take it off your corpse then.”

Din should have figured that refusing Plutt would set off some sorry chain of events.

“I’m going to need that back,” Din says, nodding at the dark saber that Rey has clipped to her own belt.

“Why? I obviously can handle it better than you, metal man.”

“You did fine,” Din waits with his hand outstretched. He doesn’t continue until the dark saber makes a satisfying thud against his palm when Rey returns it. “Could be better though. I’m here to take you back to the Jedi temple. To be trained.”

“The Jedi are stuff of legends.” The statement is dismissive. Like a kid who has finally stopped believing in fairy tales. He supposes Rey probably has a good reason to have stopped believing in comforting things.

“I thought so too. My son is one. The things they can do are incredible. You’re one too, or have the potential to be anyway. I’m not really sure how it all works.”

“You’re not a jedi then?”

“No.” Silence falls over them. Rey is clearly hesitant to believe anything Din says. What reason has he given her to believe him? She’s still eyeing him like she just might steal his armor herself. “Do you have any family?”

Rey shakes her head, and turns away. She’s clearly remembering something painful. His heart aches for her. It’s always hard to understand why families leave kids behind, or why people rarely help orphaned kids. It’s at such odds to everything Din and the Mandalorians value that he finds himself needing to prove to Rey that he can be trusted. That she isn’t alone anymore.

Din digs around in his cloak, producing the mythosaur necklace he had made to match Grogu’s. He detaches it from his neck and places it in Rey’s hand. She runs her fingers around the smooth pendant, eyes going wide when she realizes it is also made of pure beskar.

“My son has the same one. I gave it to him when I adopted him. My culture has a strong sense of family, but not necessarily a traditional one. The Jedi are kind of like a big family too, in their own way.” 

Rey is clutching the necklace hard enough to make her knuckles white. Din presses on.

“They can help you, Rey. I’ll help you.”

Rey nods lightly, and goes to hand the pendant back. Din takes one look at the tears threatening to fall from her face and makes up his mind. No one is hurting this kid again. He folds her hand back over it.

“Keep it, ad.” The term slips from his mouth without warning. And just like that, Din seems to have taken charge of another foundling.

* * *

Rey talks. A lot. He can’t answer most of her questions about the jedi, but he talks about his own culture. He tells her some stories, dialed down for a child of her age, of his adventures across the galaxy. She’s fascinated at the fact that Din has been to other worlds. She’s also mesmerized by his armor. On more than one occasion the conversation manages to return to his beskar and its value on different planets. 

“Really it’s got to be more valuable out here than on some place closer to the core worlds.”

“No. Out here I get swindled by junkers who don’t know the real value of beskar.”

“Or attacked just to have it stolen off of you.”

She’s laughing at him. He can’t help but smile down at her under his helmet. Just the few hours of conversation on their walk through the gorge has seen Rey transform back into the kid she’s supposed to be, rather than the hardened and battle ready orphan kid he had originally met. It brings Din a certain sense of paternal pride that he’s been sorely lacking recently. 

Din notices that her fingers haven’t stopped toying with the mythosaur around her neck either. If her childish teasing and antics hadn’t made him smile, that sight sure would have. 

The sun is setting by the time the pair returns to the trading outpost. They’d stopped at the fallen AT-AT that Rey called home to collect what few possessions she had before continuing on, and it had eaten away at what remained of the day. Still, Din thinks that the looming cover of darkness won’t be a bad thing as they leave Jakku for good.

A small hand finds Din’s a second before a booming voice cuts through the dusk as they reach the market’s outskirts.

“Hey! Mando!”

Plutt doesn’t look happy. On instinct, Din whips around and uses his body to block Rey from harm’s way. She probably could handle the situation just fine on her own, but just because she could doesn’t mean she should. 

“I told you, armor’s not for sale, Plutt.”

“You may have bested my men, but does the child actually know how much your armor is worth?”

Din looks down at Rey, who is glancing rapidly between himself and Plutt. Rey asks how much Plutt is prepared to pay for it, but she also never lets go of Din’s hand.

“A thousand portions.”

Din can see her eyes go wide. He can see the temptation behind them. And he knows that the kid can put up a fight. Rey looks back at her hand that isn’t in Din’s, watching her own fingers run over the mythosaur pendant.

She shrugs at Plutt.

“He can get me something better.”

Din is surprised at her casual vote of confidence. He seems to be finding lots of things surprising lately. He’ll add “Rey trusts me” right after the entry that reads “Luke kissed me.”

“Fine.” Plutt’s tone is gravely and menacing, signaling that whatever is about to happen most certainly will not be fine. 

The Shriek Hawk is still on the other side of the market, which is no doubt crawling with people loyal to Plutt. Din’s jetpack is still functioning, but he’s unsure if he would be able to carry Rey that far. The last obvious option is to stay and fight, which Din would like to avoid at all costs with Rey still grasping his hand. 

With a wave of one grubby hand, Plutt summons a small group of armed thugs from the corners of the market. Din has to think quickly if he’s going to avoid getting Rey involved in whatever fight is about to occur.

“You see the Firespray ship over there?” Din asks, grabbing Rey by the shoulders to make sure she’s paying attention. She looks towards the mess of ships at the edge of town. Din can pinpoint the second she locks onto his ship, eyes lighting up with unrestrained glee. If she hadn’t been impressed by his beskar, she was delighted upon seeing his ship.

“I need you to get to it. Hide yourself in the hold and I’ll deal with this. Then we’ll go.”

“But I can help-”

“Go, Rey.”

Her eyes peruse his armor once more before she starts moving in the direction of the Shriek Hawk. 

“You can fly with that thing right?” she asks, mentioning the jetpack on his back. “I’m a pilot!”

She’s running away before Din can even form a response. Plutt’s men seem to take his momentary distraction over Rey’s departure as the opportune time to strike. Unfortunately for them, they don’t seem to be as familiar with beskar as Rey was, and their opening blaster shots harmlessly ricochet off of him.

Din decides he’s going to get fancy today. He’d seen Rey use the dark saber earlier like she has been using it all her life. It’s been a while since he had a good excuse to train with the saber. 

_ No time like the present. _

The ignition of the midnight blade makes a few of the thugs stutter, clearly questioning their commitment to this fight with the introduction of a new weapon. Din takes the opening and charges at the men, slashing away their weapons and effectively disarming them. Maybe Luke would at least give him some credit for trying to end this without bloodshed, however Din doesn’t think the loss of their blasters will actually stop any of these men.

Three men brandish vibroblades after watching their blasters sliced through. Din is resetting his stance, falling back in order to draw out his opponents like Luke had taught him, when an awful screech echoes across the town.

All heads turn to the sign marking the entrance to the trading outpost. Well, where the sign used to be. The sign itself has been reduced to rubble, the Shriek Hawk lifting off unsteadily next to it. 

“Hey!” Plutt shouts, running on chubby legs towards the departing ship. 

Din’s attackers are torn between following Plutt after the ship and finishing what they had started with Din. He takes the opportunity to salute the thugs with two fingers before igniting his jetpack to make his escape. 

He takes a moment to carefully clip the dark saber back at his hip before accelerating in an attempt to catch Rey and his ship. Rey seems content to take the Shriek Hawk for a bit of a joyride, making catching the craft a challenge in and of itself. Eventually though, Rey seems to remember that she’d left him behind and slows down enough for him to safely board the open hatch. 

“How did you-”

“I’m a pilot, I told you.”

Din takes his jetpack and rifle off, depositing them in a heap on the floor before quickly shooing Rey from the pilot’s seat. 

“That was dangerous, kid. You should have waited for me.”

“It worked didn’t it.”

“You scraped my hull against the welcome sign, I’m going to have to get it repainted.”

Rey huffs, plopping into the seat behind Din. The cockpit falls into tense silence as Din exits Jakku’s atmosphere. Rey’s hushed apology is almost lost in the whine of the hyperspace engine engaging. 

“You don’t need to be sorry, ad. You did good. You just need to be careful is all, no unnecessary sword fights or dangerous getaways, alright?”

There’s a reluctant smile on Rey’s face. It’s endearing, and Din can’t help but smile to himself. 

“How long of a ride?”

The adrenaline of their escape apparently wears off, revealing the timid child underneath. She’s scared, worried about what her future holds. 

“Quite a while. You should get some sleep. There are some blankets down in the hold.”

“What about you,” she says, shaking her head. She hugs her knees to her chest, depicting the perfect picture of childlike innocence. “You should probably take a break and take care of that head injury.” She pauses, unsure about her next words. “I can help you, if you want.”

Din had all but forgotten the fact that he’d hit his head hard enough to knock himself out just a few hours ago. Rey is probably right, and the more he takes a moment to think about it, the more he can feel an oncoming headache and a tender spot where his helmet rests against the back of his head. However, there isn’t much he can do with her on his ship. She takes his silence as an answer to some unasked question.

“You don’t take it off, right? That’s why you looked so scared back in the desert.”

Din is again surprised by the insight such a small child possesses. It probably has something to do with her force sensitivity, or at least that sounds like something Luke would list as a jedi skill. Nonetheless, it’s impressive. He offers her a small nod, confirming her theory. 

Rey looks thoughtful for a moment before popping out of her seat and disappearing into the belly of the Shriek Hawk. She comes back with an extra strap for Din’s rifle. All at once, Din understands Rey’s intentions.

“Rey I’m not that hurt, we can make it back to Yavin 4 just fine.”

“But I can help! Is this against the rules or something?” she asks, holding the leather strip at Din, urging him to take it.

Din sighs. She’s just trying to be helpful and it’s hard to resist her earnest face. So Din takes the strap, and Rey spins around. He ties it gingerly around her head, being careful not to secure it too tightly to be uncomfortable. When he’s done, Rey spins back around to face him. She overspins a little, facing the back of the seat more than Din himself. Din finds himself smiling at her and her childish antics yet again.

“There, I can’t see now. Test me!”

Din rolls his eyes, already knowing that testing her is redundant. Still, he indulges her, holding up four fingers in front of her face.

“Are you holding up any fingers yet?”

Rey reaches out with both hands, searching for Din’s outstretched hand. When she finds it she jerks back, surprised to have found him.

“Oh,” she giggles.

The way Rey manages to flip from competent fighter and pilot back to a little kid baffles Din. He’s sorry that she’s had such a rough start to her life, that she was forced to learn how to survive all by herself. But the fact that she is still able to laugh and joke and have fun with such mundane things gives Din hope that Rey will be okay in the end.

“I think you’re well and blind, kid.” 

Despite his words, Din’s heart rate still picks up as he slides his helmet up and off. He grimaces when the edge of it scrapes against the lump forming on the back of his head. He sets the helmet at his feet with a soft thud.

“So what’s the plan here?”

Rey reaches out again, both hands coming to rest against Din’s temples.

“Where does it hurt?”

Din grasps Rey’s hands, sliding them to the back of his head. Her fingers slide through his hair, gingerly touching the growing tender spot.

“Ow, kid. Not so hard.”

“Sorry sorry.”

She goes quiet and Din isn’t exactly sure what she’s doing. She hadn’t known about the tiny med kit he keeps in the hold, so without any tools to aid healing he’s not sure what she’s going to be able to accomplish. Her breathing eventually evens out, and Din can physically sense the shift in the air within the cockpit. It feels kind of stifling and unnatural, but not inherently bad.

The feeling doesn’t last for long, disappearing as Rey pulls her hands away from his head.

“How’s that?”

She can’t see the confused look that Din levels at her when he reaches up to touch his head and finds no traces of lingering soreness. 

“How did you do that?”

Rey shrugs, “It’s one of the special things I can do. Comes in handy when I scrape myself up climbing through star destroyer wreckage.”

“It’s impressive. I don’t think I’ve heard Luke talk about that power. Thank you.”

“Of course, metal man.”

Din chuckles to himself. He has a feeling that name will catch on among the other younglings if Rey keeps calling him that. In the grand scheme of things, it’s not the worst thing he’s been called.

“So what else can you tell me about the jedi? That sword of yours is kind of like their laser swords no? I thought you said you weren’t a jedi?”

Din settles in for a long ride home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ad = son/daughter

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @qwertyuioplmm  
> I'm also on the Dinluke Discord, Qwerty Kal over there :)


End file.
